


timestamp

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Gore, M/M, Roleplaying Blog, Spoilers, alternate universe - modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompt-based drabbles from my roleplay blog, all of which are Bertholdt centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sky: Our characters are stargazing.
> 
> Bertholdt/Mikasa

“That one is Pisces,” Bertholdt says, pointing. With one hand over Mikasa’s, he traces the outline in the stars.

Bertholdt had done this a lot as kids, sitting with Berik and Reiner and even Annie, pointing out constellations throughout the seasons. For all Reiner’s mocking of Bertholdt’s reading habits, he certainly liked it when Bertholdt took them out stargazing. It was one of Berthodlt’s fondest memories.

He’d never expected to do it with anyone in the 104th. He’s not here to make friends.

But Mikasa is different, different than any of the others. Out of everyone it’s her that scares him, her and Eren Jaeger. The two whose lives he directly influenced, a hand over the walls, reaching out to touch, to crush and destroy; the only two who could possibly destroy him. They’ve only been made stronger for it, and one day, he knows it’ll be his downfall.

“What’s that one?” Mikasa asks, quiet voice startling Bertholdt out of his thoughts. He follows her gaze, taking in the night sky, calm and tranquil.

“That’s Andromeda.”

When Mikasa doesn’t say anything, he continues on from memory.

“She was meant to be sacrificed to a horrible monster, but in the end she was rescued and put in the sky, to be safe for all eternity.”

“Sounds like something Eren would like.”

Bertholdt snorts, because of course Mikasa is thinking of Eren. When is she not? But then she tugs his hand down, resting it on her knee, and strokes a thumb over his knuckles, soft and gentler than he’s ever known her to be, and for now, it’s enough.


	2. Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: My charcter singing a song to yours, or vice versa.
> 
> Bertholdt and Marco, warnings for gore.

It’s unfortunate that Marco doesn’t die quickly.

Even with his guts spilling out of him, half a lung and some intestines warm on the paved stone road, even with half his face missing, teeth shining dully in the afternoon light, eye socket empty and gaping, even after all that –

Marco’s still alive.

He twitches weakly as Bertholdt strips him of his gear. It might come in handy later; you never know.

“Sorry Marco,” he says cheerfully, with a pat on his head. “I hope you don’t mind too much.”

He doesn’t say anything, just groans feebly.

“I didn’t want to do this, you know,” he says as he works. He’ll have to hide the gear somewhere where he can come back for it later. “I’ve always liked you, Marco. We had some good times together. Like that time we walked in on Jean practicing kissing with his fist. That was funny, right? It would’ve been great to be in the MPs with you.”

He has to lift Marco awkwardly to get at the last of the buckles holding his gas canisters on. It’s a bit of a pain, and it leaves a smear of viscera on Bertholdt’s jacket, but he needs that gas. He tests the weight of it in his hands, and hums in approval at the amount left.

“Good work Marco. Very effici–”

Bertholdt stops.

“…Did you say something? Marco?”

It’s the rasp of a dying man, torn lips and broken teeth and half-missing tongue. Barely even distinguishable as a word, and yet…

“ _Er…hol…”_

“Huh,” Bertholdt muses aloud, rocking back on his heels. “Huh.”

He stops. Puts the gear aside. Listens for the sound of gas or footsteps and hears nothing.

He turns Marco over onto his remaining side, slowly, so his head is resting awkwardly in Bertholdt’s lap. Marco stares up at him with one eye, wheezing.

 _Annie would disapprove_ is Bertholdt’s first thought, but, cradling the broken remains of Marco’s head in his lap, Bertholdt begins to sing.


	3. Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarf: Your character or mine borrowing/stealing clothes from the other.
> 
> Light Bertholdt/Mikasa

It isn’t until they’re almost halfway back to the walls that Bertholdt realizes Mikasa doesn’t have her cloak.

Her jacket is damaged and ripped, in some places torn enough that Bertholdt can see her skin. At least there doesn’t seem to be any blood on her, but there’s a haggard look about her. Her eyes seem hollow, with her scarf pulled up nearly to her nose.

It’s then that Bertholdt realizes that it’s Eren lying next to her, unconscious, steaming slightly. Ah. That explains it then.

It’s a bit of a struggle, to take off his cloak while maintaining his gallop on horseback. Bertholdt very nearly drops it when he rides up alongside the wagon.

“Here,” he calls out, feeling stupid. When Mikasa turns to look at him, he tosses his balled-up cloak at her. “You should rest too.”

Before she can say anything, he nudges his horse forward and away, missing the look of confusion she gives him.


	4. Embarrass Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Embarrass Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character saying or doing something embarrassing to himself or to your character.
> 
> Deiter and Bertholdt

It’s a secret habit of his, hiding away in empty rooms at HQ with a book and a lantern. Reiner always teased him, and Annie was sternly disapproving, as she was about everything. He hadn’t picked up reading again until he’d joined the 104th and met Armin. They’d formed a quiet friendship around books, lending them to each other and talking about them, snatches of whispered conversations in the showers or after curfew, always mindful of getting caught.

Even with Armin off doing _things_ (strategy meetings, Bertholdt assumes with something akin to fear) Bertholdt had kept up the habit.

Which is how Deiter finds him, with his knees drawn up to his chest, engrossed in a book.

“Hello? Is anyon- oh.”

Bertholdt jerks upwards, slamming the book shut with enough force to startle Deiter. His face is red with embarrassment as he tries to jam the book in between his back and the wall.

“I didn’t mean to startle you… Bertholdt, is it?”

“Y-yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence – Deiter, standing in the doorway with a broom in hand and kerchief drawn around his nose and Bertholdt, with a book awkwardly sticking out from behind him.

“Can you not tell anyone about this?” Bertholdt asks fretfully, and Deiter looks at him with confusion.

“What, that you’re slacking?”

“I’m not! Squad Leader Hanji dismissed me an hour ago.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two size each other up from across the room.

“I don’t get it.”

The admission hangs between them. This time, it’s Bertholdt who looks at Deiter with confusion in his eyes.

“…The book,” Bertholdt finally supplies at last. “Don’t tell anyone about the book.”

“Why? Did you steal it?”

“No! It’s just that people will make fun of me.”

“Why?”

“Is that all you say?” Bertholdt finally snaps, and Deiter shrugs.

“My dad always said that reading was the sign of a good man,” Deiter says finally, and Bertholdt pauses to consider that.

“So, what’re you reading?”

Bertholdt’s head snaps up to look at him, but there’s no trace of mockery in Deiter’s eyes, just genuine curiosity.

“It’s a bunch of short stories like… fairy tales?”

As soon as he says it, Bertholdt feels his face burn, but Deiter just cocks his head and leans slightly on his broom.

“Are they any good?”

“Some of them. I could lend it to you after, if you want.”

“I would like that, yeah,” Deiter says, beaming and Bertholdt _finally_ lets himself relax.

“Do you need help with cleaning?” Bertholdt asks, standing, book in arms, and now it’s Deiter’s turn to look at him with suspicion.

“Aren’t you done for the day?”

“I don’t mind helping,” Bertholdt says shifting nervously, willing himself not to blush. “That’s – that’s what friends are for, right?”


	5. Blindfold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blindfold Me: my character will blindfold yours in order to have their fun.
> 
> Bertholdt/Mikasa.

“Remember,” Bertholdt says nervously as he ties the blindfold around the back of Mikasa’s head. “If you want to stop the word is –”

“Titan,” Mikasa interjects exasperated. “I _know_.”

“Just making sure,” Bertholdt murmurs, finishing the knot. “There.”

He steps back to admire her; naked, save for the blindfold – her red scarf – folded and tied around her eyes. She’s beautiful like this, more vulnerable than Bertholdt’s ever seen her, and it thrills him to know that he’ll be the only one to see her like this.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

She turns to the sound of his voice, but he can’t see her eyes through the thickness of the scarf. He wonders if they’re focusing on him anyways.

“Two?”

Wrong. He hadn’t been holding up any.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, placing a kiss on her neck, liking the way the shivers ever-so-slightly beneath him. “Absolutely beautiful.”

It’s the kind of thing he’s always been shy about saying, but it’s easier with Mikasa unable to look at him like she’s staring straight into his soul. When he nips at her jawline she gasps, a quiet soft sound that goes straight to his groin. He runs his hands down her sides, gripping her hips roughly, thumbs pushing hard enough to bruise. This time, Mikasa’s gasp is much louder.

“Feel good?”

She doesn’t answer, so Bertholdt steps back, making sure his movements are exaggerated. She needs to know that he’s scolding her. He waits, patiently, until Mikasa’s breathing begins to even out. She shifts her hips in annoyance, canting them upwards as if hoping to find his hands.

Bertholdt wants to touch her. He wants to touch her very badly. But part of this is about him being in charge, wresting away the control that Mikasa exerts over every aspect of her life. She didn’t answer his question so he’ll punish her until she relents, until she gives in to him.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Mikasa sighs and turns her neck, exposing the junction between collarbone and shoulder.

“Please, Bertholdt.”

He makes her wait a minute longer, and then places a kiss, soft and chaste, on her inner thigh. She doesn’t yelp – that would be far too much unlike her – but she does inhale sharply, shuddering, one hand finding its way into Bertholdt’s hair. He waits, one beat, two, before kissing her again, slowly moving his way up her thighs.

“Mikasa,” he whispers, breath hot on her crotch, and her grip in his hair tightens.

“Bertholdt,” she whispers back. “Hurry up.”

And so he does.


	6. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stars: Our characters under the stars together.
> 
> Light Bertholdt/Marco

Bertholdt hadn’t expected to be paired with Marco for this training exercise, but he wasn’t really disappointed by it either. Marco was amiable enough, and he wasn’t bad with the 3DMG either.

Still – hiking alone in a forest at night was hardly Bertholdt’s idea of fun, training or not. Marco talks enough for the both of them, so genuinely kind that it was painful. He doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to get attached, but it’s pretty much impossible to dislike Marco Bodt.

They break through to a clearing, and Marco takes off his pack and collapses onto the ground. With only mild hesitation, Bertholdt imitates him.

“It’s okay to take a break, right? I mean, we should be halfway there by now, and there’s still a lot of time left.”

Like Bertholdt’s going to deny Marco anything.

So they lay on the grass, packs as pillows. Marco’s got his eyes closed, and Bertholdt is watching him with something akin to fondness.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Bertholdt chides lightly, nudging Marco with an elbow, and Marco laughs.

“I won’t.”

Through the edge of the forest, Bertholdt can see the moon rising, full and orange and heavy on the horizon. It makes a pretty picture, Marco’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. He’s even got freckles under his eyes, though not nearly as many.

“You’re missing the stars,” Bertholdt says, and nudges Marco again. Marco groans softly, but his eyes flutter open.

“They’re nice,” Marco says noncommittally, and that’s as close to grumpy as Bertholdt’s ever heard him be.

“I thought you’d like this kind of thing,” Bertholdt tries. “It’s like… romantic, kind of?”

It was meant mostly as a joke; when Marco snorts at that, Bertholdt bites back a grin, pleased with himself. After a moment, Marco closes his eyes again.

They stay like that until the moon finishes rising, moonbeams adding a haunting clarity to the clearing. Bertholdt can see in vivid detail the movements of Marco’s chest, the way his fingers occasionally flex and unflex as if reaching for something. Bertholdt traces constellations in the sky; when that gets boring, he makes up constellations out of Marco’s freckles instead. For what feels like the hundredth time, Bertholdt wonders what, exactly, he’s doing here. What decisions in his life lead him to be here, getting grass stains on his white pants, watching clouds flit above the night sky, counting stars, and how does he get back on track?

“We should get going,” Bertholdt says finally, surprised by the firmness of his voice, and Marco hums in agreement. And if Bertholdt is disappointed in how Marco spends the rest of the hike in quiet serenity, well, he’d never say it.


	7. Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gift: Your character or mine, surprising the other with a present.
> 
> Onesided Bertholdt/Annie.

Bertholdt’s not the type to really hold on to sentimental things. It doesn’t go well with being a warrior; you can hardly go marching off to the walls with a stuffed animal under the crook of your arm. So Bertholdt had learned to hold onto people instead, trailing after Reiner when he began to break, watching Annie as discretely as he can because he can’t help but want to be near those who are precious to him.

Winter solstice isn’t really celebrated as much in the military, but Bertholdt remembers it as one of the few days when he was allowed to be a kid. There was no training on the solstice. His mom would bake apples, coated with cinnamon and sometimes honey, if they had enough. His dad sometimes would teach him things like archery or take him hunting.

But Bertholdt’s favourite thing was always wood carving. His grandfather had taught him before he’d passed, when Bertholdt was young. Bertholdt’s father had never wanted to teach him, so Bertholdt began to learn himself. And when he had free time – rare as it was – he would always scamper out to his secret spot (a stump in the forest that was close to the village; it retrospect, it was hardly a secret) and practice.

As young kids, they’d received presents on the solstice, simple things like scarves and candy. As they grew older, that tradition had begun to peter out. But he’s been working on this for more than a month now.

He finds Annie in _her_ usual not-so-secret spot, and he can tell right away that she’s not in the mood. Her shoulders are stiff and her hair is very slightly mussed. Bertholdt’s liable to get punched for what he’s about to do.

“Annie,” he says quietly, timidly, and he tries not to start when she whirls around to glare at him. “O-oh.”

She’s been crying.

About as soon as he can parse that, she shoves his chest hard enough to have him stumbling backwards. He very nearly falls flat on his ass, and Annie’s just glaring and scowling, arms crossed.

“Go away.”

“I –”

“ _Go away_.”

So he does.

*

Six and a half years later, bound and gagged before the crystalline structure housing the girl he once loved, Bertholdt thinks back to the little wooden flower – hand carved clumsily by a nine year old boy who he barely resembles now – and wonders.


	8. Spiderman Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the kiss in the 2002 movie Spider-Man, the Spiderman kiss involves kissing someone whose face is upside-down from yours, so your top lip kisses their bottom lip and vice versa.
> 
> Bertholdt/Mikasa

“Mikaaaaasa,” Bertholdt wails. He did not mean to get stuck in this tree, and the last thing he wants is for Shadis to come and find him. “Mikaaaaaaaaaasa.”

She’s the first person he’s seen in a good twenty minutes and at least she’s not rolling her eyes at him a la Annie or Jean. She looks just as unperturbed as ever; Bertholdt doubts she’d bat an eye if he suddenly sprouted wings and flew out of the tree.

“Can you –” he tries to gesture, and fails miserably.

“Yeah.”

She lands onto the branch below him and looks him straight in the eye. Bertholdt can’t help but shiver with nervousness. Mikasa is not a person he’d want to cross.

So when she kisses him – while he’s still upside down nonetheless – Bertholdt very nearly gives himself whiplash with the shock of it.

“Sorry,” she says, still monotonous. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Oh,” Bertholdt says helpfully, mind reeling.

“Alright, let’s get you down.”


	9. Lizard Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lizard kiss involves flicking your tongue in and out of your partner’s mouth in tight, quick strokes (picture the way a lizard moves its tongue). This is a silly kiss you can try just for fun, but it generally should be avoided because it feels kind of creepy to get.
> 
> Bertholdt/Annie

Once he gets over the novelty of dating Annie and kissing Annie and uh, doing other things with Annie, Bertholdt finds himself taking risks. Holding hands on the way to the mess hall (much to Reiner’s amusement), casual touches during training, and one time Bertholdt had even rested his hand on her inner thigh while in class. (Later, he’d gotten punched – and kissed – quite soundly, and it was _totally_ worth it.)

They’re in the girl’s dorm, redressing; neither of them wants to get caught naked, thanks, when Bertholdt tugs Annie in for a kiss. Her mouth opens against his, hot and warm and intoxicating, and Bertholdt sighs into it, a hand resting on her still-naked hip. She always amazes him with how greedy she makes him. He wants to devour her, to hold her within him and keep her there.

“Bertholdt,” she says warningly, pulling away.

“One more?”

She rolls her eyes at him, long-suffering and somehow still liking him for it. Their mouths meet. He nips testing, and she obliges him. Their tongues touch, once normally, and then Bertholdt’s flicking his tongue against hers in quick succession. It feels weird – that’s the point – and he smiles even as Annie jerks away.

“Bertholdt what the _fuck_ ,” she asks with a look of moral outrage.

“Sorry,” Bertholdt says, not sorry at all.

She frowns, hands on her hips. Annie somehow manages to look imposing even when she’s as naked as the day she was born, and Bertholdt licks his lips.

“You’re getting ballsy,” she says finally. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

The finality of her tone leaves no room for questions or arguments, and Bertholdt can feel himself starting to get hard again. His heart is pounding; he turns his head to look at the door, and Annie sighs.

“Get over here and strip.”

Who is Bertholdt to disobey?


	10. Breath Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breath kiss is a fun, silly kiss that’s almost more of a game than a kiss. To do it, open your mouth, inhale deeply and lock lips with your sweetie (like you’re performing CPR). Slowly exhale into their mouth while they’re inhaling, “passing” the breath to them. Without moving, slowly inhale while your partner exhales. Keep passing the breath back and forth until one of you runs out of breath or you both erupt in giggles.
> 
> Bertholdt/Marco, modern AU

Okay, so _maybe_ Bertholdt is a little bit drunk. Maybe. But Marco is too, face finally flushed with something other than embarrassment, and this is probably the best idea Bertholdt’s had in years. Marco had been apprehensive at first – after all, after almost a month of casual dating, they still weren’t quite official. But Bertholdt knew that alcohol would loosen him up, and he’d taken a gamble, hoping Marco would be able to relax a little bit too.

They’re walking back to Bertholdt’s apartment, hand in hand, which has Bertholdt grinning. He turns to catch Marco’s gaze, watching as Marco does his trademark smile-then-look-away-while-blushing thing which, in case you were wondering, is fucking _adorable_. He runs his thumb over Marco’s knuckles tentatively, delighting in the small puff of laughter that Marco emits.

“I really like you,” Bertholdt babbles. “I think you’re adorable.”

Marco – bless him – squeaks and nearly trips over something. It takes almost all of Bertholdt’s dexterity to keep him upright. He can’t help but laugh as Marco ends up entangled in Bertholdt’s arms, but thankfully, Marco laughs with him.

“C’mon, let’s get you home.”

He doesn’t mean to let that slip out, but either Marco doesn’t notice, or doesn’t mind. Bertholdt knows he should breech the topic someday soon – not moving in together, not yet, but rather the status of their relationship. It seems like a gauche move to make while drunk, however, and Bertholdt doesn’t want to scare Marco off.

The rest of their walk home is spent in companionable silence, but as soon as they enter Bertholdt’s apartment, Marco’s lips are attached to Bertholdt’s neck. Which is wow, . _amazing_ , but also –

“Um, aren’t you drunk?”

“Maybe,” Marco murmurs into Bertholdt’s jaw, and Bertholdt shivers.

“Maybe we should wait until we’re sober,” Bertholdt murmurs, and Marco stiffens. “Not that I don’t want to do… that. I just…”

Marco cocks his head at him, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, and Bertholdt feels like a complete and total tool.

“Y’know, the first time we –” he’s blushing dammit, but hopefully Marco’s too distracted to noticed “– the first time we… it should be special,” he finishes lamely.

“Okay.”

Huh. That was easy.

He doesn’t realize he’s said it aloud until Marco laughs, and while that’s pretty embarrassing it’s helped to reduce the tension between them.

Bertholdt takes Marco’s face in his hands and kisses him, and Marco melts into him. It’s hard to keep himself from getting too interested; they’ve kissed a couple times before, but never with this much intensity. Sober, Bertholdt might have thought that Marco was trying to convince him to change his mind; drunk, Bertholdt knows better than to worry.

“I really like you,” Bertholdt murmurs into Marco’s mouth.

“I really like you too,” Marco breathes back, and Bertholdt chuckles softly.

“Hey, close your eyes,” Bertholdt urges, struck with a mischievous idea. Marco obeys almost immediately, long lashes fluttering closed. Bertholdt licks his lips and takes a deep breath, then presses his open mouth against Marco’s. Marco’s mouth opens instinctively, and Bertholdt exhales.

“Bertholdt!”

Marco pulls away immediately, but he’s laughing and Bertholdt’s laughing too. It’s the silliest thing he’s ever done, but then, being with Marco makes him want to do stupid romantic things all the time.

He makes Marco take his bed. Reiner’s not supposed to be home until tomorrow evening, but Bertholdt’s not sleeping in his bed, and he’s not going to let Marco sleep there either. So he takes the couch, wrapped in a blanket and holding Marco’s sweater, and tries to sleep.

(That night, Bertholdt dreams of kisses – romantic kisses, passionate kisses, loving kisses, and, yes, even silly kisses.)


	11. Butterfly Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To give someone a butterfly kiss, get close to them so the tips of your eyelashes are touching theirs. Then blink very fast so your eyelashes flutter together like butterfly wings. It’s a fun, cute thing to do while you’re catching your breath from more traditional kisses. You can also give someone a solo butterfly kiss by fluttering your eyelids against their cheek.
> 
> Bertholdt/Erwin, underage.

Liaisons with your commanding officers were not exactly encouraged, but they weren’t exactly _discouraged_ either. Really, Bertholdt should’ve known better; if Erwin were to ever find out about who he was… well. Bertholdt tried to tell himself that it wasn’t worth thinking about, but the thrill of trying not to be discovered – in more ways than one – simply adds to the overall experience.

So when Bertholdt awakens to a darkened room, there’s a moment of panic. The flitter of moonlight through the curtains should soothe him, but it doesn’t; if anything, the sight of Erwin’s strong profile illuminated by pale moonlight has his heart thumping in panic.

He shifts until he’s nearly straddling Erwin, quiet and careful, ignoring the protest in his muscles. It’s not supposed to be about anything other than sex, and yet…

Bertholdt leans forward, til the tips of their noses are almost touching. Erwin’s breathing is slow and steady, a calming counterpoint to the thrumming of Bertholdt’s blood.

He means to press a chaste kiss to Erwin’s lips, as tantalizing in the darkness as they are during the day. This close, he can smell Erwin, firm and earthy with a hint of some spice Bertholdt doesn’t know. It’s almost (though Bertholdt would be loathe to admit it) comforting.

He closes his eyes.

And promptly opens them in shock when he feels Erwin move beneath him, chuckling a low rumble.

“If you wanted a kiss goodbye, all you had to do was ask.”

Then Erwin is leaning, and Bertholdt shuts his eyes out of reflex, waiting for the press of lips against his own. Instead he feels the gentle flutter of eyelashes against his own.

“Um –” Bertholdt half-whispers, throat suddenly dry. Erwin’s hands are resting on his sides, warm and broad and powerful, and when Bertholdt shivers it has very little to do with the chill night air.

“Come back to bed,” Erwin says, and even with a voice roughened by sleep he has complete and utter command over Bertholdt.

“Okay,” Bertholdt says, and this time when Erwin leans forward he kisses Bertholdt for real, hard and deep.

Okay.


	12. Wet Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wet kisses are any open-mouthed kisses, with or without tongue. A little bit of wetness during a kiss can be sexy, but try not to overdo it: too much saliva is sloppy. Alternate between wet kisses and closed-mouth kisses and single-lip kisses, and be sure to swallow occasionally so you don’t accidentally drool all over your partner.
> 
> Bertholdt/OFC

There’s something maybe a little bit weird about kissing your best friend’s younger sister, but Bertholdt finds Faye compelling. When they were younger he’d ignored her, jealous of the way that Reiner fretted over her, wanting to be the one fretted over. He’d never expected to see her as anything more than Reiner’s annoying kid sister, and, when they left, had never expected to see her again. He’d certainly never expected this.

Bertholdt’s mouth opens against hers, hot and wet and yeah, he’s not really sure what he’s doing, but Faye makes a noise that sounds like a whimper, and Bertholdt takes that as a sign to continue. He flicks his tongue against her bottom lip, then pulls it into his mouth with his teeth, worrying at it. Her mouth finally – finally – parts beneath his, and while there’s a bit of teeth-clacking and drool, Bertholdt would do pretty much anything to do it again.

He pulls away first, unwillingly but needing to breathe, and he’s pleased to see that her face is as flushed as his feels. With his saliva shining wetly on her lips, cheeks red and eyes bright, Bertholdt thinks she’s beautiful and wonders, absently, why he’d never noticed it before.

“Feel good?” He asks, breathless and unabashed.

And as she tugs him in for another kiss, Bertholdt can’t help but think that this is the best – weird or not – thing that could’ve ever happened to him.


	13. Single Lip Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To give someone a single-lip kiss, take one of their lips between yours and gently suck or tug on it. It’s an awfully romantic kiss, and if you do it right, you’ll send tingles up and down your sweetie’s spine.
> 
> Levi/Bertholdt. Underage. NSFW.

Levi likes it better when Bertholdt doesn’t bend to kiss him, which unfortunately is nigh impossible unless they’re in bed. It works well with Levi’s refusal to risk being seen kissing a recruit whose about half his age, and while Bertholdt understands the need for secrecy, there are times when he wishes he could make it obvious. Levi stirs something possessive in Bertholdt, a need to own and be owned.

Sometimes it’s tender, and that confuses Bertholdt. Levi has made in clear that it’s just sex, which is fine by Bertholdt, but some nights Levi is slow and soft and languid, like they have all the time in the world.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

As soon as they’re in Levi’s room, Levi manhandles him onto the bed, gripping hard enough to bruise. His lips find the junction between Bertholdt’s shoulder and neck – a sensitive spot, and Levi knows it – and bites, hard enough to have Bertholdt writhing beneath him. A quick flick of his tongue against the sore spot (god Bertholdt hopes it bruises) has Bertholdt whimpering shamelessly.

Levi pulls away and Bertholdt leans to catch his mouth in his, sucking on Levi’s lower lip and worrying at it with his teeth. Levi moans into Bertholdt’s mouth, and Bertholdt’s hands find Levi’s hips, holding them steady as his grinds against him.

“Impatient brat,” Levi says but his voice is raspy and it sends shivers running down Bertholdt’s spine.

“Can’t help it,” Bertholdt murmurs back. “Need you to-” and he pauses, struggling over the words fuck me, because Bertholdt is many things but he isn’t bold or crass.

“Say it.”

“I –”

“ _Say it._ ”

There’s no resisting Levi when he’s like this, not that Bertholdt would try. They’ve barely even started and he’s hard within his pants, aching for Levi to reach in and undo him. Wrenching the words from his throat is almost painful, but he does it, a hastily stammered please fuck me against Levi’s lips. He feels rather than sees Levi smirk against his mouth, and shudders.

“With pleasure,” Levi breathes, and in one swift motion his hand is in Bertholdt’s pants and all rational thought flies out the window. It’s impossible to think straight when Levi’s pulling him out of his pants, thumb smearing precome around the tip, and then Levi’s moving, replacing his thumb with his mouth and Bertholdt might actually die. Die right here, right now, in bed with one of his commanding officers and loving it.

He wants to touch Levi back, hands on his shoulders, cautiously pressing into the nape of his neck, waiting. And sure enough, Levi pulls off before Bertholdt can come, knowing without words that he’s close. There’s the feel of fingers, cold and wet with spit, pressing at his entrance, not harsh but not gentle, prodding insistingly. Bertholdt has no objections, not even when it’s rough, not even when it hurts.

There’s a part of him that wonders, briefly, fleetingly, if Levi knows somehow. If Levi can see down into him, see the monster that lurks within Bertholdt, and punish accordingly. After all, they’re not unalike, not really, not when Levi is glaring down at him like he’s under orders, not when Levi’s going in nearly dry. They’re one and the same both on and off the battlefield, and that’s half of what makes it so arousing, half of what has Bertholdt coming hard and fast before Levi’s barely even started fucking him. Not that it takes Levi long either, not on a night like tonight.

(Later, Bertholdt will lay in bed alone, Levi’s come leaking out of his ass and onto the sheets and consider humanity and monsters and all kinds of philosophical things, but for now he’s grateful for the feel of Levi’s lips on his chest and his dick in Bertholdt’s ass.

For now, that’s enough.)


	14. A Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt & Annie

Hands shaking, Bertholdt reads and re-reads the letter he’d written for Annie. It had been painstaking; the amount of paper wasted is shameful, and there’s ink stains all over Bertholdt’s fingers.

_Annie—_

_I’ve been agonizing over the right way to tell you this. I think this is the best method; this way, I won’t be stuttering, and besides, I like not getting punched in the face._

_…_

_Okay, here goes. God, I hope you don’t think any differently of me when this is done._

_You know that time you couldn’t find your bra? And you wondered if some perv had stolen it? It wasn’t a pervert - or at least, I don’t think it was stolen for that intention. Well, anyways. I know who stole it, and I lied about it, and I’m sorry._

_(It was Reiner. Reiner stole it.)_

_Please don’t kill me,_

_Bertholdt.,/i >_

_With a sigh, Bertholdt shoves it into his coat pocket. It’ll have to do. …Hopefully Annie doesn’t find and kill him. Or Reiner._


	15. A Romantic Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deiter/Bertholdt

Curled up in bed with Deiter reading books is quite frankly one of the best ways to spend a night. Deiter’s silent presence is comforting, firm and warm and steadying. Sometimes they talk about what they’re reading, trading passages like kisses. And sometimes the entire night is spent in silence, until one of them falls asleep and the other creeps off to sleep alone.

Except tonight Bertl’s too comfortable to move, half asleep and lazy, telling himself he’ll leave when the lantern is out, leave when the lantern is out…

He wakes to sunlight and Deiter snoring against his chest, books having tumbled to the floor, stomach rumbling. Bertholdt tries not to let himself be prone to fits of romanticism; there isn’t time for it, not as members of the military. But Deiter looks peaceful next to him, illuminated by pale sunlight, cheek pressed against Bertholdt’s shirt. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but Deiter sleeps like a log, sleeps right through the kiss Bertholdt presses to his lips.

If you’d told him before this moment that Bertholdt would find an older man adorable, Bertholdt would’ve laughed in your face. But here he is, quietly mooning over someone who’s probably five years his elder.

"I’m ridiculous," Bertholdt laughs to himself, worming his way out from under Deiter. "Absolutely ridiculous."

He’ll wake Deiter later. Right now, Bertholdt needs a long, cold shower.


	16. A Steamy Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertholdt/Annie, NSFWish.

It had been Reiner’s suggestion to, ah, ambush Annie in the shower. Bertholdt hadn’t even asked for the advice, but Reiner had looked so damn proud of himself, Bertholdt hadn’t been able to say no. And of course Reiner’s going to ask about it later so here he is.

The fact that he’s not currently bleeding out on the shower floor suggests that Annie knows it’s him, and that gives him the courage to open the stall door - naked save for a towel - with trembling fingers.

"You’re an idiot," is the first thing out of Annie’s mouth, which isn’t so bad except— "So is Reiner," and Bertholdt screws his eyes shut, waiting for a kick that never comes. Instead there’s a nearly imperceptible sigh, followed by a pull on his forearm, and then Bertholdt’s standing under the stream of hot water, being kissed soundly.

Oh.

Oh.

"So you’re not mad?" is the first thing out of Bertholdt’s mouth. When he dares to open his eyes, the corner of Annie’s lips are turned up, the closest to a smile Bertholdt’s seen in weeks.

"No. Now, are you going to doing something with that—" she gestures to his crotch, and Bertholdt’s cheeks burn "—or what?"


End file.
